Dragon Ball Revolution
by Space-Weazel
Summary: Twenty-Five years after Majin Buu, things have slowly gone downhill for all the Z fighters. While traveling, Piccolo discovers a secret that could jeopardize the security of Earth itself! The story of Piccolo's children 2OC
1. Alone

Disclaimer: I did not own DBZ, if I did, I would have my own army of purple mutant jellybeans! Bwahahahahahahahahahaaaa... **ahem** First off, I posted this story once before and got flamed/snippy comments saying that Fife 0.0/7.5/D*Seifer was someone else's character and that I stole everything. For your information Fife 0.0 was my OWN PERSONAL character since before I even knew what DBZ, or anime for that matter was! And besides, I JUST got the internet last year, and given that there are about 12 billion webpages and counting, there is about a snowballs chance in hell that I would find that particular one and copy something from it. I have a better chance of having my cat sprout wings and fly up my butt, than I do of finding a website that I highly doubt exists.  
  
It was boring. It had been twenty-five years since Majin Buu attacked, times were peaceful, boring.  
  
Piccolo sat at the edge of Kami's lookout and dangled his legs over the ledge. He did not care enough to meditate. He was growing old. He could feel it in his soul.  
  
He sighed a long, drawn-out sigh and stared into the beautiful evening sky. The colors were spectacular, orange, pink, purple, and maybe even a little yellow in the mix. A small bird flew by, her family of three fledglings fluttered clumsily after her. Piccolo smiled his infamous smirk, his face wrinkled ever so slightly as he did.  
  
Family.  
  
It was one of those things you never realize you have till they fade away.  
  
If time had taught him anything it was that you can never let go of the ones who mean the most to you. It may have taken him most of his life to see it, but Goku, Vegeta, Gohan, Bulma, Krillen, and the others, even Chi- Chi were his family. But something inside him wanted more. Maybe he was being selfish like a child, but he desired, above all, a family that was truly his own. Domaio did NOT count.  
  
I suppose I could spit out an egg any time I choose" Piccolo though to himself "But the process sounds rather. unpleasant to say the lease.  
  
Dende watched Piccolo from a window. Nightfall was coming on swift wings. The sky was starting to change into navy, bet a few rebellious strands of purple clutched on to life. Piccolo had been sitting there all morning. Not once had he moved, not even to meditate. He just seemed to care less and less these days. Maybe time had caught up with him, or he could still be affected by Gohan's wedding, though I doubt it. No, it was more, something was wrong, missing. Time had not been telling him anything, neither had Piccolo.  
  
Mister Popo waltzed in carrying a large black and white tray that bared two wine glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Dende would have been surprised beyond words if he had not been worrying about his friend. Popo sat down in a poofy white chair and set the tray on the glass coffee table. Dende eyed him cautiously, like he would a rabid weasel. Mister Popo poured a half glass of Whiskey, tilted his head, and then filled the glass to the rim.  
  
Dende could take no more, he had to find out why Popo had the Whiskey, and where had he been hiding it.  
  
"What are you doing and where on Earth do you drink Whiskey?  
  
Popo looked at Dende like he should know, " It is the day before Valentines Day, Gohan's and Videl's Anniversary, remember?" Popo said with a smile that went from ear to ear. "So, your drinking whiskey?" Dende retorted.  
  
He had forgotten, as he did every year.  
  
"Yes"  
  
"Couldn't you have at lease found a cheap wine or something?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"To make little green men wonder."  
  
Again with the 'little thing'. Dende made an un-amused face. "Well why don't you invite Samuel Adams as well?"  
  
Popo went to the kitchen and came back with nothing other than two bottles of Samuel Adams.  
  
Dende just sat there indignantly and crossed his arms. "Since when did you become a junkie?"  
  
"Since when did you drink coffee by the gallon?"  
  
The room fell silent, except for the sound of Mister Popo swallowing the entire glass of wine and popping the tops off the bottles of beer.  
  
Dende snorted and rested his head on his white chair's headrest. He turned his head so he could look out the window. Piccolo was gone.  
  
Dende finally relaxed after a few minuets. He was tired of seeing everybody's life going down the drain. Trunks was going broke because of some bimbo he married named Geena. Gotten had not been in a steady relationship, ever. Chi-Chi divorced Goku after being separated for ten years. Vegeta and Bulma were constantly fighting now, and were on the edge of divorce. Gohan was the only one with a remotely happy existence. He was doing what he loved, teaching kids. The kids did not give a damn about what he was saying, but it never seemed to bother him too much. Then there was him. Dende had a pretty good life. Protect the Earth from being destroyed. Yeah right. How the hell was he suppose to do that? The only thing that seemed to be protecting the Earth was a new corporation called 'The Agency.  
  
The Agency had been created shortly after Goku left to train Uub. No one knew exactly what they did. All anyone knew was that they established multiple barriers, force fields if you will, to block asteroids, debris, and aliens from damaging the Earth. They were the ones protecting the Earth now.  
  
Popo was playing with the bottle lids, flatting them with his thumb and making them into tiny boxes. Dende looked at him, finding some entertainment as he did. Much to his relief Popo had not drank the liquor.  
  
Time passed quickly and Piccolo had not come back. Dende simply had fallen asleep. Mister Popo was snickering in the kitchen at his Samuel Adams joke as he poured the colored water out of the beer bottles.  
  
Morning came around. A ray of light peered into Dundee's eyes waking him up. Groggily, Dende pushed himself out of the chair and stumbled outside. His cloth shoes pattered against the cool tiled ground. He walked over to Popo's garden and squatted down. Popo really was an excellent gardener. He had even created several types of flowers. A cross between a daisy and a rose caught his eye. The flower had always been one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.  
  
Dende's sensitive ears caught the soft sound of someone walking. He stood up and half jogged to the front of the lookout. Piccolo was standing there glaring at a pillar. 'Odd' Dende thought. Although Piccolo was bored out of his freaking mind, he usually never stared at a building like it insulted him.  
  
"What's wrong?" Dende asked as he approached the significantly taller namek.  
  
Piccolo glanced at Dende and continued his rueful staring. Dende gathered up what little courage he could find and asked the golden question.  
  
"You haven't been yourself lately. You seem to be passing away, fading into nothingness. It's because you don't have anyone isn't it?" Dende stepped back a little, he was prepared to run if Piccolo had one his pissy moments.  
  
Something very un-piccolo like happened. " Yes, you are absolutely right." He answered and gave a sad smirk. "You are absolutely right."  
  
Piccolo took off into the air. Dende watched sadly as he flew away out of sight. "Happy Valentines Day." He muttered after him. 


	2. 75

We created him smart, maybe too smart. Whatever we did it sure as hell worked. His intelligence is off the charts, as well as his strength and speed. What do we do now, Mr. Rodim?  
  
"We do more test. Find out his weaknesses and fix them. When we're done, scrap him."  
  
"Kill him sir?"  
  
"I prefer the term put to sleep. He's an animal. Nothing more nothing less."  
  
"Of course, sir"  
  
" Kiyoshi, take him to 304 A, let's see how he plays"  
  
Mr. Rodim stepped heavily down the alabaster hall into the room marked 304 A. Kiyoshi peered at the computers' monitor. A small boy, no more than five was staring directly at him, his cold blue eyes pierced his. The boy had a lime complexion, the color of nothing natural and everything manmade. The ears were the strangest thing about him, long pointed things, more than half of his three foot five height. His hair was battered and matted; its once silver complexion was stained red with blood. Not his own blood though, but blood none the less. Blood also covered the walls of his 8x10 cell. A metal bar went from one side of the room to the next. There was no bed, a toilet however sat in the far left corner of the room, a heavy steel door kept him inside; that was it.  
  
Kiyoshi straightened his white lab coat and brushed a hand over his freshly shaved face. He was twenty at the time; he was still taking classes at The Agency's 'special' training course. As a result of being so young he got stuck watching their newest project. They called it 309/77.5res.09; 7.5 for short, he was fairly obedient, a good kid for the most part.  
  
He pressed an orange button on the keyboard; 7.5's cell door opened and he walked out without being told. Kiyoshi walked out of the room into the hallway and into room 304 A. Mr. Rodim was waiting, rather impatiently if I may add. His polished leather shoes tapped on the black tile floor.  
  
Room 304 A was the size of a small warehouse, and much resembled one on the inside with its steel walls. It was completely empty except for Kiyoshi, Rodim, and 7.5. A pane of unbreakable glass separated Rodim and Kiyoshi from 7.5; after all he was dangerous.  
  
A huge, titanium door opened and a beast stepped through. The beast was golden in color; large jugular-like spots covered its entire body. It had the head of a kangaroo, the body of a two-legged, featherless bird. The underbelly of the animal was completely black. It was quite an ugly creature.  
  
The creature rammed the walls furiously. It bellowed its cry of 'Moo-rark' and body slammed the wall.  
  
"This was the best you could do? Doesn't inspire much confidence." Rodim said in a disappointed tone.  
  
" This was the only creature that was available at the time" Kiyoshi calmly said and started his stopwatch.  
  
Meanwhile the beast had started to charge at 7.5. The kid stood there, arms crossed, with a superior expression on his face. 'This is it?' he thought to himself 'what kind of a pathetic weakling do they talk me for? If only they knew what I was capable of. On second thought, it is best they not know too much.  
  
7.5 dodged before the beast could take him down. It stopped, making deep ruts in the floor with its claws. Quickly it whipped around and charged at 7.5 again. The animal was enraged. It snorted and flung its head as it ran. Foam flowed from its mouth, leaving long lines of the substance on the ground.  
  
'It's over for you.' 7.5 thought. He had stood there too long; the creature had clipped his arm. A tiny cut, no bigger than a paper cut was on his right arm. 7.5 braced himself for impact. The beast hit him at full speed, dragging him several yards before being stopped dead in its tracks.  
  
7.5 held the beasts' jaws shut. It shook its head violently, trying to break free from his hands. The pounding of its feet echoed throughout the room. "Mooooo-warrrrrk!" it squawked loudly through its teeth. Several more 'Moo-rarks' followed, each one louder than the last. The noise almost shattered 7.5's eardrums. If there was one thing he could not tolerate, it was noise. One could say he was paranoid about sound. Whatever he was, he had to stop the creature from crying. The way he figured it, he had two choices. One being that he could let the creature go, resulting in even louder barks; solution two, kill the animal. Solution two sounded more promising. 7.5 prepared for his attack. The eyes of the creature were wide and vulnerable, the perfect place to attack. His claws started to grow, steadily, painfully, until they were the size of knives. Suddenly he thrust his arm into the creatures' eye socket, killing it immediately.  
  
The creature fell to the ground like a brick. Blood leaked out of its head and spread out on the floor. 7.5 had passed the test, again.  
  
Kiyoshi pressed the stop button on his watch. "Three minuets forty five seconds." Kiyoshi said proudly, a cocky smile tattooed itself on his face.  
  
"I'm not impressed Mister Mahayana." Rodim said in a baritone voice. "Twenty million Zeny, and this was the best you could do?"  
  
"Not at all, let me show you the son." 


	3. The great escape

Authors Note: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews you sent me! I know Dende and Popo were horribly OOC, but everyone is going to be a 'little' whacked in this story, sorry! If I get too carried away, hit me over the head with a moose tail! Just so you know, I WILL PUT YOUR CHARACTERS IN MY STORY IF YOU WANT ME TO. I have been nagged about this many a time. If you want me to add your character, do the following:  
  
Conditions for this to happen: You must say you want them in the story and sign your name to the mail to confirm it. You must put a FULL BIOGRAPHY OF YOUR CHARACTER, height weight, eye color, special abilities, race, EVERYTHING!  
  
Limit one character per person. There are 5 openings for characters, 2 major. Do not post your character's bio in a review. Send it to me at SpaceWeasel_747@hotmail.com. I will NEVER abuse your character. All characters will be treated equally, except mine; of course, I abuse them at my will. NO INDESCENT CHARACTERS such as SLUTS, PIMPS, RACIST, AND OVERALL ASSHOLES. I will tell you if your character is in my story by E-mailing you. Another little thing, you may complain about how and where I put your character in the story, and if they suddenly disappear. Feel free to bitch all you want. I'll return the favor.  
  
Piccolo flew among the eagles. The wind was providing a soothing breeze as the namek traveled slowly toward Satan City. It was a pleasant day. The sun was shining, nothing but blue skies could be seen for miles and miles around. One of those days where nothing could go wrong, where you could relax and enjoy life in all its splendor. Just like Valentines Day should be.  
  
Piccolo approached Satan City. He could see the Tenkaichi Budoukai arena being repaired, compliments, Son Goten. As he soared over the city something occurred to him, he had no idea what the hell he was going to do. He stopped over Gohan's house, he could drop by for a visit, but then he would have to put up with Pan's unlimited supply of energy. "Heh, she's just like Gohan was when he was little." Piccolo sighed to himself as he continued his aimless drifting.  
  
A few hours went by without Piccolo's notice. Lately he had been forming a bad habit of forgetting time, another bad side effect of age. He had drifted over the Javwea Desert. A stiff, hot gust of air slapped him in the face. Slowly he halted to a complete stop, sand scratched his eyes, burning, gritty, painful. Piccolo put up his arms to block the airborne particles of rusty red sand.  
  
He looked down, nothing but endless dunes of rust colored sand and the occasional dead shrub. The winds died down, stripes of red dust floated to whence they came. Piccolo lowered his miniscule sand barrier and looked around once more. Nothing. The faint sound of machinery humming caught his sensitive ears. He flew higher into the sky. He could see the entire desert from where he hovered. Still nothing could bee seen but hundreds of sand dunes stacked one against the other. Never the less he pursued the mechanical sound; after all, there was nothing better to do.  
  
Eventually he tracked the noise down to an area between two huge dunes, each the better part of one hundred feet; both had a straight drop down to the ground. In the middle of the small valley a single wilting Cholla cactus clung to dear life as its bristles dropped to the desert floor. Piccolo squatted down, sand poured in his cloth shoes, scorching his feet. With a few quick motions of his hand he brushed the sand away from the base of the cactus. A fiberglass plate had been laid around the plant. Piccolo arched a brow and continued brushing away mounds of sand. Several more plates of fiberglass had been set next to the cactus.  
  
Out of curiosity Piccolo lifted one of the plates, a large black leather briefcase was buried underneath it. The case had two silver buckles that gleamed furiously in the bright sunlight. He ran his fingers over the smooth leather, it had been recently polished.  
  
Piccolo snapped the buckles open, what was inside the briefcase astounded him. He inhaled sharply. A bead of cold sweat ran down his forehead and trickled down his nose. His hands began to tremble as he reached to touch the miniscule heap inside. The humming stopped  
  
7.5 rested his head on a cold steel wall in his room. He had been abandoned there, again. Kiyoshi had lead Mr. Rodim into the 'special room' for the third time that day. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, nothing could be so interesting that it required to be looked at three times in fifteen minuets.  
  
"This is boring." 7.5 stated to himself "If I wasn't so young they would let me out of my room once in awhile. Going out to do their little 'test' did not count as getting out."  
  
7.5 banged his head against the wall in frustration. Why did he have to stay in a cramped room with no bed and a non-functioning toilet that was engulfed in stench thanks to the previous owner? He was smarter than those nitwits that took car of him, he knew it, and they knew it. He also knew they were going to put him to sleep. Sleeping. It was their word for lawful murder. After awhile everything was 'put to sleep', they never bothered to explain why, one day, creepers would just disappear into thin air; no one ever talked about it.  
  
It was not fair. Some creepers half his age could wonder around with their labies. No, it was not fair, but that is the way it was with the nigens. "Stupid biped monkey men" 7.5 snorted indignantly.  
  
"I'm one of their creepers aren't I? But the other creepers are relatively incompetent. That's why I can't go out. They are afraid of me! Ha! The little monkey men are afraid I'll hurt their precious little bodies!" 7.5 said this everyday; it was sort of a ritual to enhance his dull, utterly lethargic life.  
  
7.5 flopped down on his stomach and toyed with a piece of gravel he found in room 304 A. He flicked the rock from one palm to another as he kicked his legs. "This is it" 7.5 said as he picked his tiny stone up and rolled onto his back ".this is the climax of my life. a rock"  
  
The intercom cracked and hissed a flood of static before coming around "No toys in your room 7.5, you know that. Put the rock down, sweetie." A female voice said in a motherly tone.  
  
7.5 shuddered. He absolutely hated being called anything but 7.5. The bastards did not even give him a name, just 7.5, a freaking number. Reluctantly he dropped the rock, it rolled halfway across the room into a drain. "There goes the major event of my life." 7.5 said as a defeated expression sneaked on to his face.  
  
"Good boy" The lady said.  
  
His matted, bloodstained hair fell into his eyes as it always did. With a half-hearted effort he attempted to blow it away; which only caused more hair to fall in his face. The cafeteria's alarm rang twice over the intercom. 7.5 pricked up his long ears. The techies, or lab people, had forgotten to switch the speakers off.  
  
The muffled sound of footsteps could be heard among the cries of 'finally' and 'it's about time'. Soon the people were off to lunch, and 7.5 was alone, without anyone to watch him. He loved lunchtime the most. He never had to eat, so nobody would pay attention to him, it was the perfect time to have a little fun before the zombie techies came back.  
  
7.5 got to his feat and wiped the dust off his bottom. He looked at the metal bar that went from wall to wall. It was at least seven feet in the air. The techies told him he would be able to reach the bar easily in a few years, he highly doubted it.  
  
With great ardor 7.5 lunged for the bar. His hands barely clipped the cold metal before he crash-landed into the wall, making spider web cracks. Dopily, he staggered to his feet. His eyes flung open. He cracked the wall! He cracked the stainless steel wall! He listened closely to the intercom, just to make sure they did not see his little stunt. It was dead silent; not even the buzzing of the lights could be heard. 7.5 trotted to the other side of the room with his head held high. He took pride in his accomplishment.  
  
He concentrated on the wall and focused his energy directly to the spot where the cracks originated. This was one of the techniques that Kiyoshi taught him. He was one of the few decent techies at The Agency, 7.5 thanked him for that. Without hesitation he took off running, gaining what speed he could, in a moment of fading glory he body slammed the wall with all his power. The entire room shook as chunks of steel crumbled to the ground making giant indentations in the floor.  
  
An inferior hole was made by his effort. 7.5 stuck his hand through the gape, it barely fit. "Kami, I'm pathetic" he said in defeat and scuffed his feet on the steel floor, forming scratches with his three-clawed feet.  
  
The ear-piercing creek of buckling steel caused 7.5 to curl himself into a fetal position. He grabbed his ears and cuffed them in his hands trying to keep his eardrums from exploding. There could be nothing worse than the grinding of steel to his acute ears. Damn the tetchiest for making with these big assed ears, damn them all to hell, or a three-hour marathon of 'Frasier' at the very least!  
  
Steel, concrete, and drywall dwindled from the ceiling as if a bomb had exploded on it. 7.5 braced himself by the cracked wall. "Stupid ingest and their crappy ceilings." Was the last thought that passed through his mind before the wall collapsed, taking him with it. 


	4. Breakfast

Authors Note: Finally an upadate! I have to apologize to all you Goku fans, you will see why later. I also have to partially credit this chapter to the author Wondering Namek; while reading her story I had the strangest epiphany. Hehehe I lyke friiiiieeends! **demented smile** I have no Idea where that came from ^_^;;; There might be some OOCness in this chapter, the whole story for that matter.  
  
Chi-Chi was alone. Ever since her divorce from Goku she had been alone. Thankfully Bulma had been there for her when she needed it most; she even opened her home to her. Everything had been going perfectly fine; of course, Vegeta and her had gotten into a few fights, but nothing she could not handle.  
  
The smell of freshly made pancakes filled the Brief kitchen. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast created an aroma that not even the most disciplined man, or saiyan for that matter could resist. Chi-chi darted from one side of the blue and white counter to the other preparing food for Vegeta, Bulma, Trunks, Geena, Goten, Bra, Pan, Gohan, and Videl. It was Valentines Day, one of the three holidays they managed to spend together. For the special occasion Chi-Chi had made heart-shaped pancakes with bits of cherries in them, she even arranged the eggs so they looked like hearts, no expense could be spared for today.  
  
Everyone was sitting at the round, wooden table in the dining room. Vegeta, Trunks, Gohan, and Goten were leaning out of their beige, cushioned chairs eagerly awaiting breakfast. Among them, none was hungrier than Vegeta, both Bulma and Chi-Chi refused to cook for a week; frankly he had been living off of Frosted Flakes and Ramen noodles, for lack of cooking skills. He could almost feel his stomach shrink during that week; it was a sickening thought to him of anything on his body suddenly shriveling up. Memories of viagra came rushing back to him.  
  
Trunks sat, side by side with Geena, in complete silence. They had been married for five years; she had managed to almost break him with her compulsive spending. Geena with her long, strait blonde hair, huge blue eyes, an motor-powered mouth, would not shut up. She talked to everyone about everything; from how she kept her hair needle strait to how Trunks was in bed. Gohan nodded in agreement with everything she said, hoping she would be quiet if he did. Goten did much the same.  
  
"Like it's so wonderful to be here with the Briefs, we like never ever visit, do we Trunks? Like we should visit more don't you think, Trunks? Yeah we should, shouldn't we! Anyway we were going to paint our house blue, then I decided pink would be like soooo much prettier, but purple sounded just so cool. Finally I settled on magenta. It's like the perfect color, isn't it Trunks? Trunks?"  
  
Trunks snapped out of his dazed state and turned to look at his wife. "Uhh. yeah." He muttered and returned to being a zombie.  
  
'Kami I hate her' Trunks thought 'she's like the thing that won't shut up! She keeps going and going, and going. She's a freaking energizer bunny! I could have picked anyone I wanted to, and I picked her to marry. I must have been drunk when I married her, why else would I do it? Temporary insanity? Maybe the paper work got to me. I can't live the rest of my life with this ignorant bimbo, but I can't bear to hurt her, damnit, I would get myself into this position wouldn't I?  
  
"Like I totally looove your house Mrs. Briefs! It's so beautiful and like gorgeous. How do you keep it so clean and sparkly with Vegeta around?" Geena continued with her high-pitched girly voice.  
  
Vegeta scowled, crossed his arms and stared at the empty spot where his food should be. 'Of all the women out their, my son had to pick the stupid one. Doesn't she know who I am? How dare she talk about me in that tone! Trunks should teach her some respect for the Prince of all Saiyans. Insolent fool.' Vegeta mentally said.  
  
"Hey Vegeta!" Geena chirped in her happiest voice she reserved for Trunks, and ONLY Trunks.  
  
Vegeta looked up. Geena was smiling like a cat on drugs. She was girly, sensitive and downright mindless, which may have been her best quality. Whatever is was, Vegeta could barely stand the mere sight of her; he would rather set his hair on fire and put it out with nitro, than be where he was at that moment.  
  
Vegeta's lip quivered for a moment. He did not want to curse Geena out in front of family and friends, but Kami, how he wanted to. "What?" the word came out as more of a threatening growl than anything.  
  
"Like do you think yellow, lacey curtains with pink and blue frills would match the walls just perfectly? Like I really want to know what you think!" Geena had clasped her hands against her tickle-me-pink overalls and whit blouse. She was beaming with the sickening sweet 'happy happy, joy joy' energy that would make most people vomit.  
  
'She wants to know what I think does she? I think she can go to hell and take her damned curtains with her. If it weren't for the woman I could tell her EXACTLY what I think of the little wench. One day she'll get what she deserves from me. Leeching whore of a bitch.  
  
He clenched his fist hard. There were certain things you never did to Vegeta. One would be asking him to match curtains with walls. In his old age he had calmed down a bit, but his inner fire never diminished; he was still the fierce Prince of Saiyans. He just came in puppy dog version now. By this time everyone was looking at Vegeta, awaiting his answer.  
  
Snapping out of his little daydream Vegeta calmly answered, "I-I think it would." he could hardly speak these words "look." At that moment Bulma kicked him in the shin  
  
".lovely" Vegeta let out an barely audible gasp.  
  
Had he really said. lovely? That horrid little word that he would rather die than be caught saying? Things really had gone to hell lately, and the after effects sucked.  
  
Gohan, Trunks, Bra, Videl, Bulma, Goten, and Pan gawked at Vegeta in pure astonishment. Goten started to crack. A few hoarse chuckles could be heard in the otherwise silent room. Apparently Chi-Chi had heard his little comment to, the smell of burning pancakes enveloped the dining room.  
  
The smoke alarm was the first to break the uneasy quiet of the building. Geena screamed, just as she was expected to do. Vegeta rolled his eyes, Gohan studied how the noise was made, Goten burst out laughing at Geena, Trunks tried to calm his wife, Videl and Bulma sighed, Pan and Bra joined Goten in laughter, and Chi-Chi grabbed the small, red fire extinguisher and let it rip on the blackened pancake.  
  
After the smoke cleared Chi-Chi walked out of the kitchen, her hair frizzled, patients gone, and timer set on her bomb. A puff of smoke insultingly rose behind her; she relaxed herself enough to not explode from un-vented anger "Breakfast. is served." She huffed and stormed back into the kitchen.  
  
A short while later she returned with plate upon plate of pancakes that were artistically stacked on her arms. Chi-Chi wobbled under the weight of the food. She took cautious steps as she progressed toward the awaiting people. Most of them were fixed on the breakfast plates, especially the saiyans.  
  
When Chi-Chi set the plates down, inevitably, Vegeta was the fist to reach for them. Suddenly he was on the floor with a frying pan imbedded in his face. Geena screamed yet again and ran for the bathroom, which she solely thought, was the safest place in the house. "Trunks fetch your wife." Bulma said imperatively as she folded one of the cloth napkins in her lap.  
  
Trunks groaned. He was overjoyed that she was gone, why did he have to be the one to ruin it? Sluggishly he scooted out of his seat and plodded toward the restroom. Meanwhile Chi-Chi brought out a platter of the most delicious smelling bacon you could ever imagine. The large glass plate took up half the table; bacon towered over the top of the plate. Altogether there must have been two feet of nothing but pure bacon.  
  
Chi-Chi disappeared one last time into the kitchen.  
  
~*~*~*  
  
Trunks pounded on the bathroom door. "Geena, Geena get out, you're making a big scene in front of my parents!"  
  
"I'm not coming out, there's a mad women out there, and she killed Vegeta." Geena shrieked, her voice was clouded with sobs.  
  
"Geena." Trunks whined "Vegeta's fine, just a little stunned for the moment. Please just come out and enjoy breakfast for this one day. You won't regret it." Trunks practically begged her.  
  
"I'm not coming out!" She replied in an 'I-will-do-no-such-thing' manor.  
  
Trunks gave up the nice guy attitude. It obviously did not work with her anymore. He re-adjusted his black denim jacket and inhaled deeply. Now was the time to tell her. Yes, the perfect time. "Geena, this isn't working out, we should get divorced. Besides, Vegeta wants to kill you, so it might be in your best interest." Trunks said bluntly, probably too bluntly.  
  
No sound came from the bathroom. Trunks pressed his ear to the door. Inside he could hear the short, shocked gasps of his wife. Ultimately, Geena cried her eyes out. The blaring of her voice carried down the hall to the dining room, making everybody but Vegeta turn to look.  
  
Bulma quietly excused her self. When she arrived at the bathroom door, Trunks was sitting on the white, tiled floor holding his head in his hands. His soft lavender hair was ruffled against the cuff of his sleeve. Intermittent sniffles and whines escaped from the other side of the door. Bulma's motherly instinct kicked in. She knocked on the door gently and said "It's okay, do you want to talk? Can I come in? Everything's okay sweetie."  
  
The door cracked open slightly. "Come in." Geena sniveled.  
  
Bulma gently pushed the door open just enough to get in. She locked the door behind her.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Vegeta returned to the realm of the living. He pushed himself into a sitting position, grabbed onto the frying pan's handle and, with all his might, pulled. The pan was stuck.  
  
A deep growl shot through the pan. Gohan, being the good Samaritan that he was, got out of his chair and assisted Vegeta in freeing his face. Sooner or later Videl and Goten got the bright idea that Vegeta needed all the help he could get. They also joined in, in pulling the frying pan. Vegeta flailed his arms in the air, trying to gesture that he wanted them to stop. This only made them pull harder.  
  
Bra snickered and dug through her woven pink gouache purse. She pulled out a tiny digital camera and shot a picture of Vegeta. Afterward she took several more pictures and returned the camera to its original place.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Chi-Chi finished arranging the scrambled eggs into little heart shapes. Goku use to get so impatient when she would take the time to organize the food; he would act like he was going to die from starvation, and flop over on the old blue patterned couch with his legs draped limply over the arm. Kami, she missed his funny little mannerisms now days. It was too late to feel sorry now though. Goku had been missing for three years, the chance he was going to show up now was slim, but he always managed to pull off miraculous things in the past. Maybe today he would show up, just for her.  
  
Disheatendly Chi-Chi carried two plates of heart-shaped eggs to the table, then went back for ten more. She made no note of Vegeta's struggle with the frying pan of DOOM. When all the plates were set in their correct spots she looked at Vegeta. Butter was smeared all over his hair. Pan was still rubbing the substance in as the others desperately tried to pry the stubborn pan off.  
  
Vegeta had, had enough. With a quick motion of his hand he succeeded in throwing Gohan and the rest off of his face. The frying pan simply fell off after than. In a fit of rage Vegeta threw the pan down the hall into the bathroom.  
  
Chi-Chi sighed, it was going to be a long day.  
  
~*~*~  
Trunks practically jumped out of his skin as the pan impacted with the door. A flurry of thoughts went through his mind in a split second. Was Bulma okay? Did the renege pan kill his wife? Who the hell through it? He was jarred out of his thinking by a bone-chilling scream, followed by the chanting of 'Oh my Kami!'  
  
Heroically, Trunks slammed the door open, breaking it off of the hinges. Instantaneously he covered his eyes. The horror, the horror! They were having. facials! It was like Spaced Invaders!  
  
Bulma was furious "What did I tell you about coming in the bathroom without knocking? Kami, your father does that! Get out, GET OUT!" The last words echoed all around Capsule Corp.  
  
~*~*~  
Trunks came barreling down the to the dining room, what he saw stopped him in his tracks. Vegeta was covered head to toe in butter, as was Pan, Gohan, and Goten. Chi-Chi had seemingly given up, and sat down at the table to eat her breakfast in minimal peace. Videl, and Bra sat at the table with her, trying to maintain what little decency was left.  
  
Minuets later Bulma waltzed in, the fury of Hell blazed in her eyes, curlers in her hair, and green facial cream on her face.  
  
"What the Hell is going on here?" She yelled at the top of her lungs " Gohan, Goten, sit your sorry punk asses down at the table and eat the food Chi-Chi prepared so nicely for us! Have you no respect?. Vegeta" she stated serenely "You're coming with me."  
  
Bulma dragged Vegeta by the collar of his White T-shirt and vanished down a large corridor. Feminine screaming was heard for miles around; then Vegeta re-appeared, clean and shaved, and sat down at the table without saying a word.  
  
Bulma and Geena also appeared, clean and refreshed, and joined their friends at the table. "Now, we are going to have a civilized breakfast like a family should." Bulma demanded  
  
"You're saying that Kakarott's brats are my family?" Vegeta snapped.  
  
Bulma shot him a look that could kill. "Yes." She said curtly, "We are all family, and you're going to like it, okay!" There was no further discussion. Everybody ate their food, no objections, and no comments. 


	5. The Book

I was the Beginning, and I am the end. There is nothing that did not spawn from me. I am the Eternity, Karayan, the Dark One.  
  
"I created the Eternities long before your sniveling galaxy existed. When we took form there was only light and darkness. Siran and Seda chose the light, while I went to the darkness. From there I created what shall be known as the Narrici. They are the children of Extremity and Despair.  
  
From my place on the planet Sirries, I survey all that was once mine, the darkness. Extremity and Despair thrive on the Darkness. Siran and Selda on the other hand survive on Life and light. We cannot exist together.  
  
A battle of the ages began, through our struggles Extremity and Despair carried through the Narrici seed and planted it deep within Siran and Selda. Time itself showed the potency of my creation. Like a parasite, the Narrici devoured the core of Siran, rendering him defenceless to my will. However Selda did not fall so easily. But everyone surrenders to the darkness. In her last dying breath she cast out two eggs. They were destined for Earth.  
  
Now, in the year 799 they will fall to earth and reveal themselves to the Protector!. He alone will not be enough to stop them, he will call forth the Gaurdian, the Teacher, the Queen, the twins, the Watcher, and the Replicas.  
  
Through trial and tribulation they will fail. There is one, the Sacred that will stop them. He shall rise up and become one with his enemy. With him, they shall perish with the Eternities through all of time."  
-XXIII Book of Karayan  
Desolate demise  
  
"So, you think this creature us the Prophesied one?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"He is capable of great things. Great, but horrible things. It better be worth it  
  
"It will be, trust me."  
  
"I trust nobody, not even myself."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
"Prepair him for the Excalibur."  
  
"Right away."  
  
"We have plans for you my son, my destruction." 


	6. Death

Author's note: I'm getting lazy, have not written a chapter in over a day. or two. For all you people who wonder where Piccolo went, I have two words for you: Here's Piccolo. On a more serious note, a special thanks to Josav who brought to my attention that Piccolo is NOT old in my timeline. But since I have the super duper Writer's Freedom; I can bend the truth and get away with Piccolo being an old fart! My theory is that since Piccolo is a namek and a namek year is half an Earth year, and that Nameks age twice as fast as humans, so Piccolo should be 94 namek years. Given that he fused with Kami and Nail their estimated ages combined add up to.. 1259 Namek years {628.2 human years} yes I did do the math. Please tell me if I'm horribly wrong, I don't care, but tell me anyway!  
  
I wrote this little chapter for Wandering Namek. He is a great writer; you should read the story 'Blending In'; if you don't, prepare to suffer the wrath of George, the rabid weasel! I also command you to write a review for Wandering Namek, now, go, fly, my pretties, fly!. Tonk will also be appearing in the next chapter, which will explain the delay (I'm still getting a feel for his character, don't want to butcher him. much, just kidding). **Onto the story peeps!**  
  
Piccolo touched the fragile body of what once had been a young boy. The limbs were brutally hacked off, leaving a bare, bloody torso. The blue skin was cold and clammy; it was not at all pleasant. At first glance the body would have looked like a jumbled pile rags. The feeling of death passed through Piccolo, he had witnessed such carnage before through his father's eyes; but so few of the memories were of mangled blue children.  
  
Questions flooded through his mind at light speed. 'Why was this child killed? Who did it? Why burry it in a suitcase under fiberglass?' The pitter of footsteps among the dunes forced Piccolo out of his inquisitive state. Slowly he turned around, sand cascaded off of his long white cape, making a blurred effect in the background. Shock and partial horror shot through Piccolo's eyes like a bullet. None other than the legendary Goku was standing behind him.  
  
~Scene Change~  
  
7.5 moved his left hand; it was the only thing that the steel wall had not crushed. Painfully he pushed himself to his knees under the immense weight of the steel, his back felt like it was going to give out any second. He crawled out from under fallen wall. The music of chirping birds filled his ears, it was amazing; possible the most beautiful song he had ever heard before. He glanced over his shoulder to see the outdoors for the first time. 7.5's heart sank instantly. On the other side of his collapsed wall was a sturdy set of bronze bars. As he moved toward the bars, the whole picture came into focus. The room was a birdcage, a giant birdcage. Unbelievable. Tropical plants and insects thrived in the enormous room; oddly, no birds could be found.  
  
The alarms blared. Soon the techies and Security guards would flood the room and take him to the 'Chamber'. "Yeah, they'll probably stick needles in my eyes to, yippee, who's up for probing?" 7.5 said sarcastically "Well I'm not going to go without a fight, not this time!" A hint of anger writhed in his voice.  
  
As predicted the guards came rushing in, their so called special addition black police armor. There were five of them, Derric's goons no doubt. The taller one of the bunch, appropriately nick-named Ape, took the lead in capturing the boy. "Alright men, we have dealt with this bugger before, remember he has a few tricks up his sleeve."  
  
Ape removed a syringe from one of the many pouches on his utility belt; gently he squeezed it, a florescent green liquid spurted out, leaving a nasty brown stain on the steel floor. "Come here little feller, we aren't going to hurt you. It's me, your uncle Sammy, you can trust me. Now just stand still and I will get you out of this dirty place." Ape coaxed, he almost sounded like he cared what happened to 7.5  
  
"God I hate it when he does this" 7.5 grimaced "He acts like he's your friend, your pal. Traitor. The cantankerous bastard. He was just another brainwashed imbecile that was hired off the streets."  
  
7.5 edged ever closer to the bars of the cage. He was more than they could deal with, or so he hoped. The men were tall, husky, and looked like they could break a football player in half with their pinkies. The small ceiling light reflected off their armor, the words Capsule Corp were printed on the shoulders as clear as day. "Capsule Corp, sounds familiar" 7.5 thought aloud.  
  
"You do not have the time to wonder about such things, weed." Derric taunted him. He pointed a forty-caliber pistol directly in between 7.5's eyes.  
  
7.5's face blushed purple. They did it again. They all work as a team to distract him, and then, they strike. "Looks like your lucky number is 14 kid" Derric started to pull the trigger.  
  
All 7.5 could do is stand there paralyzed. Sure he had received death threats; getting them five times a day was not uncommon. But never had he felt this close to death. Derric would pull the trigger unlike the rest. He was just the kind of slime that kills for fun, no matter what the game, human, or animal.  
  
The pent up rage and fear that built up inside 7.5 manifested. It was as though all the insecurities that plagued him were coming back to haunt him. Ghost-like flashes from the past sped through his mind, a million per second. One thought repeated itself over and over. 'Is he really going to do it?'  
  
The trigger clicked.  
  
In that one moment everything that 7.5 had ever experienced was summed up in a fraction of a second. Ultimately it rounded down to one thing. He was put to sleep.  
  
It was a slow poison. His vision was the first thing to fade. He felt himself fly backwards into the smooth bronze. The cracking of solid bone rang throughout his throbbing head. It was the type of ecstasy that one can only feel in bittersweet pain. The smell of gunpowder clouded his remaining senses, rendering him defenseless to their will. The last thing he saw was the outline of Derric. Was he. laughing? He was, they all were. It was like a slow, painful haze as he drifted further and further into the shadows, soon it would end, no pain, no suffering. It would all be over in a few unbearable seconds; somehow, he did not want it to end. He wanted to experience that burning sensation of molten lead burrowing into his delicate skin. Could it be, he enjoyed it? Yes, the pain of death was better to him than the finest wine, sweet and unpalatable at the same time; amicable and menacing, cursory and languid, all these feelings at once. It was like being born again, the fiery, bliss too great to measure.  
  
The climax ended far to soon. The raw pleasure of dying disappeared, leaving the endless sting of fading with him. Slowly, but surely 7.5's inner light gave out, he became a shadow, like those that had gone long before him. But before all his life seeped away, he committed to memory the one thing he despised most. Derric's malicious laughter about his trophy kill, the weed boy.  
  
In between the last racking sniggers of his crew Derric managed to choke out "Happy holidays." He burst out laughing once more. "Kami, I've wanted to do that for ten years since they started this damn project '84.' I'll kill the other three, mark my words Ape Man! I'll be the one to do it!  
  
Then 7.5 slept the remorseful slumber of the fiend for the first time. 


End file.
